


Once Upon an Early Morning

by takcajaz



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anxiety, Barista Bucky Barnes, Comic heights, Deaf Clint Barton, Eventual Sex, Kinda Plotless??, Let My Sniper Boys Be Happy, Lucky is an ESA, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oops, Security Guard Steve Rogers, Starbucks, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Teacher Clint Barton, Teacher Natasha Romanov, but not written out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takcajaz/pseuds/takcajaz
Summary: As the shots finished pulling, he swirled the milk a bit before pouring it in. He did his best to make a nice design in the foam, ending with a tulip.Bucky glanced up again, and the man looked impressed. "Real pretty," he said in a smooth, low voice.Bucky could listen to him talk all day.He sent Clint one of his most charming grins, because he had already had his coffee and no one had pissed him off yet. Besides, this gorgeous man could have all of his charming smiles, if he really wanted. He secured a lid and put a sleeve on, handing it over. "Only for you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in a while, and the first I've been so excited and happy to write in even longer. Sorry if it's rusty, but I hope you like it. 
> 
> Some information may not be 100% accurate, because my research was very quick. I do know any Starbucks info is correct. what with being your friendly neighborhood Starbucks barista.
> 
> Not beta'd because I'm a disaster.

Bucky sighed, wiping off the counter after a rush. It was 6:35 on a Tuesday morning and his Brooklyn Starbucks was bustling as always. They hit the lull between the early-early risers and the normal early risers, giving Bucky a moment to breathe behind the bar. His coworker, Sharon, smiled at him tiredly from her position at the register, before turning to change the roll of stickers.

It was Bucky's first time working since his best friend, Steve, came home from his final tour of duty a few days before. Both Steve and Bucky had been in the army, Bucky having served two tours before being honorably discharged and Steve three. Steve had been attacked with a neurotoxin that had damaged his respiratory system. Bucky, on the other hand, had only stopped due to a little accident of driving over an IED that had cost him his left arm. He had had a standard grade prosthetic originally, but by some luck, Steve had landed Bucky a state-of-the-art metal StarkTech model. It was pretty fancy, what with its pressure and heat sensors and whatnot.

Steve had been a security guard since he was 21 at Stark Tower, and had been able to keep his job even as he had served his tours. Bucky had been a barista for the last 9 years, having started at 18 to help pay for their apartment. He had worked between tours, and when he came back down a good arm, his manager Peggy merely ordered him new aprons, specially embroidered with an American flag on one side, and his given name, James, and "Army Veteran" just below that on the other. They had even decorated the store to honor his return, and no one batted an eye at his prosthetic arm or how his previously outgoing, charming personality was now subdued.

After dropping the rag back in the bucket, Bucky tightened his apron and groaned as the mobile order machine printed another sticker out for him. Luckily, it was only one, a simple grande vanilla latte. He set to it, not even glancing up as someone stood at the register. He heard Sharon's standard and bright "good morning!" followed by someone - a guy - fumbling to respond. With furrowed eyebrows, Bucky spared this man a glance, and oh. _Wow_.

The man was tall, definitely taller than even Steve, and lanky all the way up to his wide shoulders. His dark blonde hair was styled, and his purple tie hung haphazardly around his neck. Beneath his slate gray dress shirt, Bucky could see that his arms were muscled and the fabric strained against them. Despite the dead tired look on his face, he was pretty, plain and simple.

Blinking, Bucky looked back down to the drink in front of him, finishing it easily, before setting on the back counter with a mumbled "Mobile."

Coming back to the bar, the tall man now stood in front of him, and there was a cup on the counter. Bucky picked it up and read it: a venti quad latte. Clint was the man's name. Bucky carefully steamed the milk, pulled the shots, and looked up at the man again. He was met with blue eyes and sent a small smile his way. As the shots finished pulling, he swirled the milk a bit before pouring it in. He did his best to make a nice design in the foam, ending with a tulip.

Bucky glanced up again, and the man looked impressed. "Real pretty," he said in a smooth, low voice.

Bucky could listen to him talk all day.

He sent Clint one of his most charming grins because he had already had his coffee and no one had pissed him off yet. Besides, this gorgeous man could have all of his charming smiles, if he wanted. He secured a lid and put a sleeve on, handing it over. "Only for you."

As Clint took it, his cheeks turned a bit pink, nodding at Bucky. "Thank you," he said quietly, nodding again, and turned away to leave.

Bucky watched him go, half beating himself up for saying that, half watching the man's backside as he walked away. As the door closed, he looked at Sharon, who blinked once at Bucky, before bursting into laughter. He grumbled, turning away to check his milks and _not_ to hide the blush he didn't have.

When he looked back, she was giving him a softer look. "What?" he asked quietly.

"Been a while since I've heard you talk like that, is all." With that, she turned to greet a customer walking towards her. Bucky just blinked at her.

-:-

A few hours later, Bucky was met with the sight of Steve and his friend and running buddy, Sam. Truth be told, Sam was Bucky's friend too, in a begrudging and snarky sort of way. He liked Sam, really, but he downright _loved_ giving him a hard time. Sam just took it with a grin and threw it right back. He was a vet, too, from the Air Force, and a VA worker. He had singlehandedly been Bucky's biggest help in readjusting, especially when Steve was gone, so maybe Bucky shouldn't be so snarky. Then again, Sam didn't seem to mind at all.

The two grinned at Bucky, as they placed their order with Sharon. As she stickered the cups and handed them to Bucky, they moved over in front of him. "Hey, Buck," Steve greeted.

"Hey, Steve," he smiled back, before looking at the other man with a mock glare. "Oh. You."

"Nice to see you too, Heavy Metal," Sam smirked.

Bucky smiled, proceeding to make their drinks, Steve's macchiato and Sam's cold brew. "How was the run?"

"Good, if you could call what he was doing running," Steve laughed, clapping his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. "God, I forgot how much of a dick you are about running. Sorry that we can't all be freakishly fast like you, Steve."

The blonde merely grinned, looking back at Bucky. "How was has your shift been?"

Before he could answer, Sharon cut in. "There was a cute guy!"

"Sharon-" Bucky started.

"A guy? Really now, Buck?" Steve winked at him, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

"Bucky even kinda almost flirted with him, believe it or not."

Bucky looked up, to see Steve and Sam's shocked faces. Slowly, small grins formed on their lips. He felt a warmth to his cheeks and looked back down at the drinks in front of him, snapping the lids on both drinks.

"It was nobody," he mumbled quietly, handing over their drinks.

"I _absolutely_ believe that, Buck." Sarcasm dripped heavily from Steve's voice. Bucky slowly lifted his head, fixing a glare on Steve as he did. The other man just laughed. "Aw, c'mon Buck. You know I'm immune to the glare."

Bucky sighed. "I hate you."

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He sipped his drink with a smile. "I'll see you at home tonight, alright? I'm going with Sam to the VA and then I have an appointment with Tony."

"Yeah, yeah, you punk. I'll see you tonight."

"See you, jerk."

Sam sent him a small wave before the two made their way out of the store.

-:-:-

Clint wasn't running behind for once.

In fact, he was early in his commute to work, maybe even early for being early. Probably a good thing, considering his meeting with the principal before school.

It was the beginning of April, and the weather was warming up finally. If not a lot, it was routinely hitting 60 degrees by the afternoon, which was decidedly better than the winter they'd had. Even though the morning air was still nippy on his ears, it was warm enough for Clint to walk to school and he thoroughly enjoyed it. Breathing in the chilly air beat breathing in stale, reheated air in his car any day.

Inhaling the fresh, crisp air, Clint felt great.

Until, of course, the clear lack of his purple travel mug in his left hand hit him.

He mumbled a "shit" with a quiet groan. At least, it was better, he thought, to forget coffee, as opposed to hearing aids.

Still, Clint could hardly function without his coffee. And a meeting with the principal that was totally, one-hundred percent, _not_ stressing him out? Yeah, he needed his coffee for that. The coffee at the school was borderline dirt, in his not-so expert opinion, so that was a no go for him. He couldn't even remember any coffee shops on the rest of the way to school until he saw the green and white sign as he rounded a corner.

The Starbucks coming up on his right would have to do.

Clint entered the shop, embracing the smell of coffee as he dragged himself towards the counter. A younger blonde girl grinned at him, almost sing-songing "Good morning" at him. He fumbled to respond, trying his best. After ordering, paying, and dropping a buck plus change into the tip jar, he slid over towards the bar area.

Behind the machines was a man, seemingly around his age, with brunet hair pulled up into a half-bun. He glanced up at Clint, who smiled weakly at the sight of clear blue eyes and a small smile.

Clint studied the shorter man; he was buff, no doubt, and his black button-down shirt did little to hide that fact. His apron stated his name was James, and that he was an Army vet. It was then that Clint noticed his metal left arm, peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve. He didn't let his eyes linger too long, though, afraid he'd upset the barista. Clint commented on the design James made in his drink to cover his stares, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the magnificent grin James sends his way.

It was far too early to look at someone as gorgeous as James.

But when James handed him his drink, and responded in a warm, almost raspy voice with "Only for you," Clint almost lost it.

It was also, apparently, far too early to even be around someone as gorgeous as James.

He could feel his cheeks warming up, looking into those blue eyes. With a small "Thank you," and a nod, Clint turned around and left the store, face still red as he stepped back out into the chilly air.

The cold startled him, but the latte helped warm him from inside. For a moment, he reveled in the smoothness of the drink, wondering if any of how good it was had to do with the handsome barista who made it. 

Clint finished his walk, scanned into the school, and headed straight into the main office. Only one of the secretaries sat at her desk. She looked up at Clint, smiling. He did his best to smile back, adding "Is Dr. Coulson here?"

She shook her head. "Family emergency, he'll be out until next week."

Clint thanked her, left the office, and couldn't decide if he was annoyed or relieved. He was here far too early to do anything, and he had rushed around this morning for nothing. On the other hand, a meeting with the principal could mean any number of things, but the job of a woodshop teacher was never too secure in a school increasingly more focused on a STEM curriculum. With a light sigh, he headed to his room in the basement of the school, and changed in his backroom, out of his stupid grown-up clothes and into jeans and a purple flannel. He sipped at his coffee, slumping in his chair behind his desk. After tying up his work boots, he kicked his feet up on the desk and closed his eyes.

A few minutes passed until he heard a familiar voice.

"You look comfortable."

Clint peeked one eye open, seeing one of his students smirking in the doorway. Kate was a junior, and probably the best student Clint ever had. First of all, she took his class seriously, which is more than he can say about half his students. Second, she was sassy, stubborn and independent. Third, she treated Clint less of a teacher and more as a normal person. He tried to shy away from being friends with his students, but Kate was the exception.

She reminded him a bit of himself, cheesy as it sounded.

"Morning, Kate," he greeted, opening both eyes but refusing to move from his reclined position.

"Mr. Barton," she said, dropping her things on a table near his desk. She hopped up to sit on it, swinging her legs slightly. "You're here early."

"Yeah, supposed to have a meeting with Dr. Coulson, but he's out."

The teen raised her eyebrows, "Really? What about?"

Clint shrugged, looking at the ceiling. "Dunno." He glanced quickly at Kate then back up, before saying "I have a hunch he's gonna shut down my class next year."

"What!?"

He just nodded. "They're trying to push STEM and I'm sure it's not long before this room gets taken over for another robotics class or something." Clint heard her heavy sigh, but he sent her a grin, hiding his worry. "You'll be out of my class by then, Bishop. Don't need to worry 'bout an old man like me."

"I won't consider you old until you're at least, like, 35," she shot back with a grin of her own.

"Wow, I only got 6 years of youth left then? I better get on it then."

"He's already old, don't kid yourself." Clint's eyes shot over to the door. His best friend, Natasha, stood there, arms crossed and an amused smile on her lips. "So no meeting with Coulson today? And you know I could've given you a ride this morning. What with living a floor below you and all."

Clint shrugged. "I like walking. And you do know I have my perfectly fine car at my disposal too."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Not sure your beat-up truck could be considered 'perfectly fine'." Her eyes drifted, landing on the coffee next to Clint, raising a brow. "Starbucks?"

"Forgot coffee this morning in my rush."

"Hard to believe you even got that far without any."

Kate laughed, shaking her head at the Russian teacher. "Morning, Miss Romanoff."

"Morning, Kate."

The student's phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, before gathering her bag and giving Clint a half-assed salute. "See ya, Mr. Barton, Miss Romanoff." Natasha moved in to let her out, before leaning against the same table Kate was at.

"Your AC working alright?" Clint asked.

"You fixed it a week ago, I definitely would've complained by now, Mr. Landlord."

"Yeah, I know, but I gotta make sure my tenants are alright."

"Check on Mr. Lee, then. He's an old fart, y'know." Clint chuckled, sipping at his coffee. "How is it?"

He shrugged. "Not bad, honestly. Might help that a cute guy made it, though." Natasha gave him that look, and he knew he was in for it. "Aw, Nat, no, not the look." She just smiled at him, causing him to groan. "I hate you."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're giving me the look and that's enough." Natasha laughed, quickly leaving the room.

Clint groaned again; her retreating frame was only a pause, and he knew this conversation was far from over.


	2. Chapter 2

When Steve walked into their apartment, Bucky was standing over the stove, making dinner. The blonde dropped his bag on the sofa, and slipped onto one of the stool at the breakfast bar. "What did I do to deserve the world's best friend?"

"Just get beaten up far too many times as a teen," Bucky snorted, not looking up from the pasta he was cooking.

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to rethink. "I… can't really deny that one, I guess."

"You're right, punk." He stayed quiet for a minute, before adding "Pasta with marinara today."

"Thanks, Buck. How was your day?"

"Good, pretty standard."

"Any other interesting customers, or just the guy you flirted with?"

Bucky half-heartedly glared at him over his shoulder. "No."

"Ah, so, that guy, huh?" the blonde replied, leaning back in the stool. It was non-chalant, but Bucky knew Steve. This wasn't nothing to him.

"I didn't flirt with him..." he quietly trailed off, looking down at the pasta. "Not intentionally at least."

"Was he at least cute?" he asked. It was the same question Steve had always had for Bucky, ever since Bucky had come out to him years ago.

Bucky didn't answer at first, and let Steve's question hang in the air for a minute. "He was stunning, Stevie." He glanced at his best friend, who was grinning ear to ear. "But he's no one!" he rushed to add, knowing exactly the look he was receiving.

"Sure, Buck." Steve just kept grinning at him.

"Peggy asked about you today," Bucky threw in quickly, hoping to derail him.

"She did!?" Steve cleared his throat after his voice cracked, repeating "She did?" in a lower tone.

The brunette laughed, nodding. "She was worried about you, y'know. When I got that letter." He glanced at his best friend, who seemed to be hanging on every word he said. "You should come in again, y'know? She'd be glad to see you."

"I think I might." Bucky just smiled.

-:-

The next time Bucky saw Clint was when he opened again a almost a week later, on Monday. He came in a bit later than before, but ordered the same thing. He smiled tiredly at Bucky again, and Bucky couldn't help the grin that he sent back. Like last time, Bucky made a tulip.

Clint blinked, and smiled. "Pretty."

Bucky hesitated, promising himself to not embarrass himself again. "Thank you," he breathed.

He handed the drink over, smiling. Clint returned the favor, thanking him before leaving. Bucky smiled smally to himself as he made the next drink, missing the glances from his coworker.

-:-

The third time Bucky saw Clint was the following Wednesday. It was around 4 in the afternoon, after the after-school rush had just about died down. He didn't even notice the blonde until he was towering on the other side of the counter. He looked ready to open his mouth, when Bucky heard a "Mr. Barton?"

Clint's head whipped around, and Bucky followed his eyes to a young woman, with dark hair and eyes. She beamed at Clint, giving him a quick fist bump. "Kate! Hey, kiddo."

Bucky tried not to eavesdrop, making the drinks in front of him, but the two were loud and hard to ignore.

"Your final project's looking nice. Meant to tell you today," he heard from the blonde man.

"Thank you! How was the rest of your day?"

"Long." Bucky could hear the weariness in his voice. "Senioritis is so real this year. I can't deal with it."

"Sorry you can't be graced with students as lovely and perfect as me."

"Yeah, yeah, you brat."

"Supposed to have a meeting with Dr. Coulson again?"

"Canceled again. Wore the big boy clothes for nothing."

"Sorry to hear it." There was a brief pause, and Bucky thinks he heard the voice of another girl. "I gotta get back to my Russian study group."

"Yeah, Nat'll kill me if she finds out I interrupted her students. And she will find out."

The girl - Kate? - laughed, and Bucky looked up in time to see her give him a little salute, before walking back over to a group of other students. Clint looked back at Bucky, who now only had his drink to make.

"Teacher?" Bucky asked, after getting over how the blonde's eyes were practically shining.

"Hardly." The brunette sent a questioning glance with a quirked brow. "Woodshop teacher. My class is more or less a joke to half the kids. Kate over there is probably to only one who gives more than a two shits about it."

Bucky grinned. "That's pretty awesome. Wish I would've taken woodshop back in school."

Clint smiled a bit sadly down at the counter. "Yeah, and who knows how much longer I'll be teaching it." He looked up at Bucky again. "I think there's a chance they're gonna cut my class next year. STEM classes and all."

"That's stupid. Woodworking is vital."

The blonde shrugged. "So's STEM. I mean, your arm came from that." His eyes widened, glancing at the silver metal. "Ah, I'm sorry, that was-"

"Hey." Clint shut up, blinking at the shorter man who held out the latte in his metal hand. "It's alright. I don't mind. Not like I'm hiding it." He swallowed and nodded, taking his drink from Bucky.

"Thank you."

"You have a good rest of your day, alright?" Bucky offered a bright smile. After a second, Clint returned it.

"You too."

Bucky watched Clint leave, before glancing over the cafe and locking eyes with his best friend staring at him with eyebrows raised from a few yards away. The brunette groaned, shaking his head. Steve ordered his drink, and stared at Bucky some more. After a moment, he asked "So, was that No One?" Bucky gave him something short of his murder look. Steve laughed a bit, and watched Bucky skillfully make his drink. As he handed it over, Steve locked eyes with him; he suddenly looked serious. Quietly, Steve said "Been a real long time since you've smiled at anyone that way, Buck." Bucky blinked at him, but before he could say anything, Peggy came from the back room, lighting up when she saw Steve.

Peggy was hardly older than him and Steve, and had moved from England in her early twenties. She wore her brunette hair in a curled ponytail, and almost always donned red lipstick. Though she was small next to Steve and Bucky, she was far more terrifying and fierce compared to the two.

Steve's smile was blinding as Peggy struted around the counter and pulled him into the tightest hug. He returned the favor, wrapping her body in his strong arms. After a moment, they released, and she looked at Bucky and his coworker, Scott. "I clocked out, but I'll be in the café if you need me." With that, she took Steve's hand and started towards a table. Steve grinned back at him, and Bucky rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Can they date already?" he heard Scott say. Bucky snorted, nodded his head, and set back to work.

-:-:-:-

Two weeks passed, before Clint had given up on trying for his meeting with the principal. He could track Clint down himself once he decided he had time. In the meantime, Clint was going to _not_ care about whatever he had to say. Absolutely not going to worry about it at all…

Okay, maybe he was worrying, and_ a lot_. He could just casually lose his job, in the matter of minutes.

He knew Coulson wouldn't do this, of course not. He was a good man, a friend even to Clint. But the anxiety of the thought…

It was troubling to say the least.

And even so, Clint has his building, he made some money off of it, but he generally kept his rent low - low for New York City, at least - because of his main income.

So Clint sat in his apartment, resolutely _not_ thinking about his situation. He'd spent the last week fixing things in the building and talking to his tenants until he found it impossible to listen to Mr. Lee's old man chatter any longer. He was officially out of things to do.

So, he was sitting on the couch.

As if he could read his mind, his golden retriever, Lucky, bounded up onto the couch, breathing all over Clint. Clint groaned, pushing his face away. "C'mon, Luck," he mumbled with half hearted disgust in his voice. The one-eyed dog merely ignored him, happily invading his personal space. With a sigh, Clint scratched his ears, and smiled at him. Clint whispered to himself "Maybe a walk?"

Lucky's ears perked up instantly, having heard him perfectly fine. The two were a pair, really, like Natasha always pointed out. The dog with one eye and the guy with bad ears. At least they could balance one another out, she'd always add.

In seconds, Lucky was pulling his leash off the hook. Lucky, whether tragically or fortunately, was trained to be a service dog, but had a tendency to do whatever he wanted. Clint registered him as an emotional support animal, but those old skills never seemed to fade. Clint appreciated it, especially when he took a break from his hearing aids or was starting to panic. But other times, other times Lucky just opened doors and cabinets at free will, which Nat always said probably should be a bigger concern, but Clint didn't mind. He was a good boy, after all. The best.

He bounded back over to Clint, dropping the leash on his lap. The excitement radiated off of him, with his wagging tail shaking his entire body. With a chuckle, Clint clicked on his leash, grabbed a couple plastic bags and his sunglasses, and headed out.

He took Lucky around the other side of the block, heading down that street. People were out, and a few stopped Clint to pet Lucky. Of course, he obliged. His dog was awesome, after all, and who was he to keep that to himself? They all asked the same "what's his name?", and "how old is he?", and a few asked about his missing eye.

Lucky was 3 and he was born without it, he would respond.

On his way back, Clint locked eyes with a man coming towards him, who briefly looked down at Lucky. As he approached, he smiled, and asked "May I pet your dog?"

"Absolutely," he said back, leaning slightly against the tree next to him. His blue eyes shined at Clint's response.

The blonde man, nearly as tall as Clint but definitely beefier, squatted down next to the excitable golden. Despite the clear fact that this guy was obviously buff beyond belief, he seemed small as he pet Lucky. Who, in fact, was eating it up like you wouldn't believe, flopping against him on the ground and grinning up at him.

The man looked up at Clint, asking the standard three questions. Clint threw back the answers, expecting that to be that as the blonde stood up. But instead, he held out his hand, saying "I'm Steve."

Clint took it, smiling smally at him. "Clint."

"It's nice to meet you, Clint. You live around here?"

"Just on the other side of the block."

"Ah," the man nodded, smiling. "My best friend and I live just in this building right here." Clint nodded, not sure how to react. "Would you wanna get a beer, Clint?"

Clint blinked at Steve, before stuttering a "S-sure?" Nat wanted him to go out more, right?

Steve grinned. "Great! The bar around the corner has a deck uptop, Lucky can be up there."

He walked next to the man, listening as he told stories about his job. They climbed the steps up to the bar's deck, and Clint grabbed a table, hooking Lucky's leash loosely on his chair. Steve came back with two bottles of beer in one hand and a dish of water in the other. After setting the dish down for Lucky, he handed Clint a bottle, and sat across from him.

After a sip, Clint asked "How'd an artist like you get to being a security guard at Stark Tower? Isn't that, like, ridiculously hard?"

"Ran into him at a bar, actually. Was a bartender there for a few months, and he offered me a job on the spot."

"That's pretty awesome, actually. Wish I could get a cool gig like that, just by being at a bar." Lucky laid his head on his lap, causing Clint pet him as he tipped his beer bottle back. "You always been a guard or a bartender or something then?"

"Actually," Steve leaned back, sipping his beer, "I was in the army for a while. Joined when I was 22 and was discharged a bit ago. Some airborne toxin messed up my lungs."

Clint nodded, before asking "Stark kept you around though?"

Steve shrugged, "He appreciated me going into the military, something about being a professional badass." He smiled, before adding "My roommate actually went into the Army because of me."

"Really?" Clint asked, tilting his head to the side. "Must care about you lots then."

The smile on Steve's face only grew, a fond look in his eyes. "Yeah, Bucky is the best. I was a little punk growing up, but he was always there for me, finishing the fights I got into. I wasn't surprised when he joined the army right after me. We even managed to get in the same unit our first two tours." Steve looked out over the street for a minute, before smiling down at his beer. "Our first tour, actually, Buck got himself into a hostage situation, probably because he's such a smartass. I got him out, like he's always done for me."

"Is he still in the army?" Clint eyes flew down to Lucky as he shifted to sit closer to Steve. Steve ran his fingers through his golden fur, scratching behind his ears every few strokes.

"Nah, Buck was discharged before me. Our third tours were separate, so I wasn't there. Got caught in an explosion and lost an arm, right at the end of my own tour."

"Ah, geez, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, he's over it. He's got a pretty fancy StarkTech prosthetic now." Steve looked at Clint expectantly, who just looked at him confused. With a slight sigh, he asked "What do you do, Clint?"

"Oh, I'm a woodshop teacher, nothing special. Oh, and a landlord."

"Really? That's pretty awesome! Woodshop was the one class I always wanted to take but never could."

"How come?"

"All the particles in the air. Might not look like it now, but I was a tiny little thing in school. Had real bad asthma and a god awful immune system."

"Don't know how much longer I'll be teaching, if I'm honest," Clint murmured, sipping his beer.

Steve cocked his head. "How come?"

Clint shrugged. "Supposed to have some important meeting with the principal, think he's gonna shut down my class. He keeps cancelling out meetings, though."

"I'm sorry, man," Steve leaned forward, resting his hand comfortingly on Clint's shoulder. Lucky copied his motions, placing his paw on his knee.

Clint nodded, but before he could say anything else, Steve's phone rang.

"I'm sorry, do you mind if I...?"

Clint raised his hand. "Go for it, man."

Steve walked away, picking up the phone with a "Hey, Buck."

Clint watched, not really able to hear anything Steve was saying. Instead, he looked to Lucky, who was basking in the sun, his good eye closed and tongue out. Clint couldn't help the smile on his lips, reaching over to scratch Lucky's neck.

After a minute or so, Steve walked back over, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I've gotta head home, it was nice meeting you Clint."

Clint stood up, offering his hand. "You too, Steve."

Steve took it with a grin, before asking "Mind if I get your number? It was nice talkin' to ya."

"Uh, sure." Steve handed Clint his phone, who typed his name and number quickly.

"Thanks," Steve beamed, before making his way down the steps, Clint behind him. "See ya around, Clint."

"You too," Clint mumbled, watching him walk the other way, before looking down at Lucky. "Let's go home, yeah?"


	3. Chapter 3

Time passed, and it was suddenly the second week of April. Bucky saw Clint more regularly, usually either in the early mornings or around four in the afternoon. Clint somehow managed to come in during almost every single one of his shifts, having a short but nice conversation each time. He would never tell anyone, but he loved it and looked forward to seeing Clint.

Especially after seeing Clint come in in everyday clothes.

It was a Thursday, and much later than Bucky usually worked, but his one coworker, Wanda, wanted the afternoon off to spend with her brother. Bucky didn't mind, and did his best to sleep in that day and take full advantage of it.

It didn't really work, if he was honest, but he tried, at least.

It was 5 in the evening, and Bucky was more than ready to leave. Steve was supposed to be making dinner but he could hardly make toast without burning it; the man was a walking fire hazard. Bucky needed to make sure their apartment was still intact. To add to it, at this time of day, things generally slowed down at Bucky's store, which made the rest of his shift seem even longer. His coworker, Scott, was busy doing dishes in the back, leaving Bucky to man both the register and the bar. And yet, he still had so little to do. He wiped practically every machine, sink, and surface behind the counter in an attempt to busy himself, even the shelves he could barely reach and no one could see. He needed _something_ to happen.

As if on cue, the front door opened, and in came a lanky, wide shouldered man, wearing a purple flannel and cuffed slim jeans that suited him quite well, in Bucky's opinion. The man looked up, and oh.

It was Clint.

Clint grinned at Bucky. "Weird to see you over here."

"Weird to see you dressed like this," Bucky responded. Did that sound shitty? He felt like that came out wrong. "Not that it doesn't look good on you."

The blonde laughed, looking down at himself, before looking at Bucky again, with a grin. "This is usually what I wear to work, believe it or not."

"But the shirts and ties?"

"I'm a woodshop teacher, remember? All that was because I was supposed to have meetings with the principal." He glanced down, his smile faltering as he met Bucky's eyes. "Have yet to have it, actually, and I've decided that he can come find me once he's decided he has time to meet with me." He shrugged, giving a nervous laugh.

Bucky nodded, blinking. "Ah, what can I get you?"

"Oh! Um..." He glanced at the menu board. "Can I get a grande cold brew and a grande earl grey?"

Bucky raised a brow. "Got a hot date?"

Clint snorted, "I wish. Just a tea-obsessed best friend."

Bucky nodded, traded cash with Clint, and set to work on his drinks. "Wait," Bucky said, looking over his shoulder. Clint blinked at him, confused. "So do you not know about your class yet?"

The blonde shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Yeah, no clue. I'm trying to forget about it, if I'm honest."

Bucky sent a sympathetic smile back, deciding to change the subject. "Well, how come you're so late today?"

"I teach archery after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Bucky fumbled with the ice scoop for a moment, looking at Clint with wide eyes. "Archery?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, as if he were talking about something normal, like washing dishes or walking a dog. "It's more of a club sport, but the kids enjoy it."

He brought the drinks over, setting them on the counter. He met Clint's clear blue eyes, a small smile on his lips. "That's... That's really cool, Clint."

The blonde's cheeks turned pink. "Thank you," he smiled. Bucky smiled back, noting how good he looked like this. After a moment, the blonde blinked, glancing at his phone. "Ah, I gotta get going, my friend is here to drive me home. I'll see ya soon?" Clint posed it more as a question; Bucky's smile grew, and he nodded. Clint turned, and Bucky watched him leave.

Those jeans really did suit him.

-:-

The next night, Bucky woke up after fitfully sleeping, the sounds of explosions still ringing in his ears. With shaky breaths and a racing heart, he reminded himself that he was home, in his apartment in Brooklyn. The snores coming through the thin wall separating his and Steve's room helped bring him back.

Glancing over, he the clock read 3:18 am. He groaned quietly.

After getting out of bed, he pulled on a shirt, readjusted his joggers, and threw his hair up in a bun. Bucky groaned as he stood, his shoulder aching slightly; he ignored it, and made his way to the kitchen. He found the notepad next to the fridge, and wrote a note telling Steve he was going for a walk and left it in their breakfast bar. With that, he tied up his tennis shoes and quietly left the apartment, blocking out Steve's snores as he shut the door.

The sidewalks were empty, but the streets still had some cars and taxis. The air was chilly, and Bucky thought about going back in for a hoodie. Then again, it wasn't bad and he needed some fresh air. So he walked through the neighborhood, aimless and taking corners at random. He knew the neighborhood like the back of his hand, so the turns always landed him somewhere familiar.

As he rounded the corner, Bucky was met with a golden retriever, and then, suddenly, Clint. Wow, he was a lot taller up close, Clint's shoulders at Bucky's eye level. The blonde stopped short, looking down at him; they blinked a bit blearily at each other. The dog, however, began to sniff and lick Bucky's right hand, his tail wagging as fast as it could.

"What-Why are you out so late?"

Clint blinked at him, before responding, a bit loud. "Ah, sorry, I don't have my hearing aids in. Can we stand in the light so I can read your lips?"

The two men shifted out of the shadow of a tree, into the full yellow light of a streetlamp. The dog nudged his nose at Bucky's hand again, and he glanced down long enough to see the dog had only one eye. He looked back up at Clint, who looked disheveled but so unfairly good in his tight black shirt and purple pajama pants. Speaking deliberately, he asked Clint "Why are you out so late?"

"Stressed, couldn't sleep." He shrugged. "Lucky here was awake, so walk time." The dog perked up at the word 'walk', to which Clint smiled tiredly and shook his head. "Why are you out? Can't imagine you're going to work like that."

Bucky snorted. "Nightmares. Couldn't stand to be home anymore." He rubbed his right arm slightly at a breeze; Clint tilted his head at him.

"You wanna come back to mine for some coffee? It's pretty good, and I can put in my aids."

Bucky found himself nodding. Wouldn't Steve be proud, seeing him go somewhere other than work, the gym, or Sam's apartment. Clint and the dog - Lucky - led the way, walking from where Bucky had come, past two buildings, and into the third. The three walked all the way to the top floor, and Clint opened his front door. He unclipped Lucky, and gestured at the couch. "Lemme go grab my aids," he mumbled, disappearing into a room.

Bucky sat, Lucky climbing next to him, and studied the apartment. It was simple, albeit a bit messy. A toolbox sat by the door, with a set of purple dog bowls. Next to that was a bow and quiver full of arrows. Overall, there weren't many decorations, past a few pictures with a stunning red haired woman. The room wasn't small, but it was homey and nice, with the comfy couch and blankets draped over every piece of furniture.

He heard Clint before he saw him again. He tripped, stumbled for a moment, before regaining his balance and walking like nothing happened. Bucky couldn't help the small smile on his lips, watching as the man started to make coffee. The brunette noticed now, the small glint of purple behind Clint's ears.

After a few minutes, Clint walked over and asked "How do you take it?"

"Black is fine, thanks."

Clint nodded, handing him a bundle of purple fabric. "Can tell you're cold, put it on."

Bucky didn't argue with him, and unfolded the fabric. It was a plain purple pullover hoodie, soft and a bit worn. When he put it on, it smelled like coffee and cologne and sawdust. He liked it.

Clint had already walked back over to prepare their cups. Before he came back to Bucky, the blonde more-or-less chugged a cup before refilling his. He then made his way to the couch. He handed Bucky the mug, sat on the other side of Lucky, and sipped at his coffee.

Bucky stared at him, blinking and at a loss for words.

"Yeah, I just chugged burning hot coffee," he mumbled over his mug. "Pretty standard."

Bucky snorted, smelling his own coffee, before taking a sip. Oh, wow. This _was_ good coffee.

Once Clint was almost done with his mug, he held it on his lap, and turned to Bucky. The brunet mirrored his actions, but didn't let his hand up from where it was scratching behind Lucky's ears. The dog merely placed his head on Bucky's knee, eye closing with a happy sigh.

"This seems backwards, me giving you coffee," Clint mused. And yeah, it was totally backwards, but Bucky wasn't complaining. A minute passed, before Clint spoke again. "So, nightmares, huh?" Bucky sighed, nodding. "What of, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just, losing my arm and reliving things I saw overseas." He shrugged, his left shoulder aching a bit.

"Ah, yeah. Army vet, forgot..." He sipped at his coffee, looking down at Lucky. His eyebrows furrowed. "How..." He looked at the other man again. "How did you lose it?"

"I, ah, drove over an IED." He clinked a finger against the mug. "I'm still just lucky we had two vehicles and I was the only one in mine. The guys behind me were able to get me bandaged up and headed for Germany before I lost too much blood." Clint nodded, looking back at his dog. He rested a hand on Lucky's hip, burying his fingers in the golden's fur. "Stressed, huh?"

Clint sighed, nodding. "I've been panicking about this meeting with Coulson for a while now, and I'm just so scared I'm gonna lose my job." He met Bucky's eyes, looking nervous. "It's not about money, really. Hell, I own this building and that's enough. I love the kids, and my coworkers. When I get down, the kids are always so happy and lively... It's hard to be upset when I'm around them." He set down his coffee, and ran a hand over his face, his breathing louder. "I've been so lost for so long, and I had nothing. Now I've got the kids and Nat and Phil and-"

And suddenly Clint was breathing heavy, shaking slightly. He coughed, eyes unfocused. Before Bucky could react, Lucky got up, sat on the blonde's lap, and began licking his face. The brunet watched carefully, as the blonde slowly began to breathe more normally, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to rub Lucky's neck. He took deep breaths, and rested his forehead on Lucky's for a minute.

Bucky released the breath he didn't know he was holding, when Clint opened his eyes and blinked at Bucky shyly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes flicking down as Lucky warily laid back down, head on Clint's lap this time. "I'm sorry..." he repeated.

Bucky reached over Lucky to rest his right hand gingerly on Clint's knee. "Hey..." he said gently, leaning down into Clint's line of vision; the blonde met his eyes. "Hey, don't apologise for that, alright? Not to me, not to anyone." He rubbed his thumb over Clint's knee, back and forth. "Do you want some water or anything?"

Clint nodded silently.

Bucky patted his knee gently, walking over to the small kitchen area. He found the glasses next to the sink, and filled one up to bring to Clint. As he came back, Lucky moved to sit on the floor in front of Clint. The brunet handed over the glass, sitting closer to Clint than before, but leaving a bit of space. He watched Clint carefully as he drank some water. "A little better?" The blonde nodded again. "Wanna watch something?" He leaned over to the coffee table, before handing the remote to Clint.

The blonde clicked on the TV, flipping through channels for a few moments. He hesitated at a channel with dogs on screen, glanced at Bucky, before changing the channel. "Hey," Bucky murmured placing his right hand back on Clint's knee, "put on whatever you like."

Clint nodded, before switching back to the show before. Bucky squinted to read the title: Dog Cops. Clint pulled his knees up to his chest, and watched the show intently. Bucky tried to do the same, glancing over at the blonde periodically.

After an episode or two, Clint seemed relaxed, so Bucky opened his mouth. "I never noticed your hearing aids."

Clint looked at him. "Really? They're bright purple."

"'m not a giant, Clint. You're a hell of a lot taller than me, so I can't really see them." He paused, lips curling slightly at the edges. "Besides, I don't tend to stare at people's ears."

Clint laughed, and Bucky smiled at him. The blonde cozied into the couch, a few inches closer to Bucky. Bucky didn't say anything, but kept smiling and rested his feet on the coffee table.

After a few more episodes, both were staring blearily at the TV. Bucky could oh-so faintly see the sky breaking, but he could barely keep his eyes open. Clint was no better, shivering slightly. Without much of a thought, Bucky pulled the blanket next to him over them both, leaning back into the couch.

"James?"

"Bucky," he yawned, "call me Bucky."

"Thank you, Bucky."

Bucky nodded sleepily, closing his eyes. "You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky groaned quietly, rubbing at his eyes with his left hand. He was warm, warmer than usual, and he could feel the sun on his face. With eyes still closed, he went to stretch his arms, but his right was being held down. With furrowed eyebrows, his eyes fluttered open.

Why wasn't he in his apartment? Where was he?

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder, and looked down, finding messy dark blonde hair. And then he finally remembered.

Oh, he was with Clint; they had fallen asleep.

Clint was cuddled into Bucky's side, head on his shoulder and leaning a good amount of his weight on the brunet. Bucky had an arm around the blonde's waist, who, in turn, had his arms fully encircling Bucky. A small smile found Bucky's lips, and it's then he noticed the redheaded woman sitting in the chair to Clint's right. He startled, catching himself before he could jump and wake up Clint. The blonde merely readjusted with a quiet hum, cuddling closer to the brunet's side.

"You must be James," the woman spoke, a sharpness to her voice.

"Everyone calls me Bucky," he responded in a hoarse, sleep-heavy tone.

The woman looked him up and down, sipping at the mug of tea in her hand. It felt as if she was scanning him for something. "He's mentioned you." She paused. "A few times actually." Bucky blinked at her, a bit shocked. The two stared at each other for a few minutes in silence as she sipped her tea. "Treat him well," she finally said cryptically, standing up and leaving the apartment quietly.

As the door closed, Clint stirred against his shoulder. He groaned quietly, and Bucky watched him open his eyes. "Hey," he mumbled, looking back at the brunette. "You're a good pillow."

Bucky blinked at him, feeling his heart in his throat.

His phone began to buzz, startling him. He reached into his left pocket, and Steve's name displayed on the screen. He smiled apologetically and Clint, hitting the answer button. "Hey," Bucky mumbled.

"Where are you?" Steve asked. He was using his authoritative, military tone, and Bucky could feel himself rolling his eyes.

"I'm at a friend's," he replied, sending a sideways glance towards Clint. The blonde was looking back at him curiously.

"A friend's?" Steve asked, incredulously.

"Hey, shut up," he shot back. Then, as more of a defeated mumble, "I can make friends."

Bucky could feel Steve's doubt over the phone. He heard Clint snicker and sent the quickest glare his way.

"Well, alright, Buck. You'll be home soon?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Alright, be safe. I love you."

"I love you, too, bye." With that, Bucky ended the call. He looked over to Clint, who was looking back with an odd look on his face.

After a moment, he opened his mouth. "Boyfriend?"

Bucky snorted, a small smile reaching his lips. "Not at all. That's my best friend."

Tension released from Clint's shoulder, slumping. A quiet "Oh" was his only response.

"Speaking of, do you have a girlfriend?"

Clint furrowed his eyebrows at the brunet in disbelief. "No, why?"

"There was a woman here right before you woke up, a redhead."

Now, it was Clint's turn to show a small smile. "Oh, that's Natasha. She's my best friend, lives the floor below me."

Bucky nodded back, feeling unnecessarily relieved. He checked his phone again, surprised to see it was almost noon. When he looked back at Clint, the blonde looked a bit dead-eyed, as he stretched. He revealed a strip of smooth, tan skin as he did, and Bucky's eyes found it immediately. With red cheeks, the brunet looked away and stood. He could feel Clint's eyes watching him as he made a pot of coffee, and brought the pot and two mugs over as soon as it stopped brewing. He filled Clint's first and then his own, watching the blonde chug the steaming coffee, before looking at Bucky with pleading eyes. Bucky couldn't help but smile, pouring another mug for him, before setting the pot back on the counter. The two sat, quietly drinking their coffee when the front door opened. The two looked over, and there was Lucky, looking like he was smiling.

Bucky looked back over at Clint. "Did he just… open the door?"

Clint nodded from behind his mug. "Failed service dog, but only because he has a mind of his own." He looked back at the door, then to the dog. "At least close the door, you ass." The dog ignored him, plopping himself right on Bucky's feet and grinning up at him. Clint sighed, but didn't move to close the open door, and sent a half-hearted glare to the dog. The brunet scratched between Lucky's ears, smiling when he headbutted Bucky's knee.

Once the coffee was finished, Bucky checked his phone to see another text from Steve. With a sigh, he met Clint's eyes. "My roommate is being a pain in the ass, so I think I should head home." Clint nodded. "It was real nice to hang out Clint, hey, give me your phone." The blonde did, and Bucky couldn't help but smile at the adorable picture of Lucky that was the background. Bucky typed in his number. "If you ever need anything, let me know, alright? I'm a pretty light sleeper, so you can call me whenever."

"Thank you," Clint replied, quiet, and stood up with Bucky. "Thank you, Bucky."

Bucky smiled, nodding. "See ya soon."

The door closed behind him, and he smiled to himself. Noticing his surroundings, the redhead - Natasha - was leaning against the wall, smirking at him. "Hi?" He said, but she disappeared down the stairs. Bucky just blinked before going the way she went.

The walk home was short; turns out Clint just lives around the block from him. When he opened the door, Steve was waiting for him, sitting at the breakfast bar. "Hey, Steve."

"So where were you?"

"A friend's, _Dad_." Bucky rolled his eyes.

Steve ignored it. "Buck, you only ever hang out with me and Sam, where were you?"

Bucky could feel his cheeks warming. "Uh, Clint's." He started towards the coffee table, setting his things down so Steve didn't see his blush.

"Clint? The cute customer guy?"

"Yeah," he looked up at Steve's smirk, walking over to shoulder him before opening their fridge. "Nothing happened, you punk."

"Oh, I know, and that's totally your sweatshirt." Bucky looked down at himself, surprised to see he was still wearing Clint's purple hoodie.

"Seriously, we just slept okay?" This gave Steve pause, looking curiously at Bucky with serious eyes. "What?"

"You had a nightmare last night, right?"

Bucky nodded "But what does tha-"

"You never fall asleep after nightmares, Buck."

Bucky opened his mouth, but closed it again; Steve was right. He'd been having nightmares for years, ever since he came home, and never once had he been able to fall asleep after. With a small frown, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, staring as his best friend's lips turned to a bright grin.

"I..." Bucky paused and shook his head. "I'm gonna make lunch, what do you want?" Steve didn't say anything, staring at Bucky with that stupid grin. With a heavy sigh, the brunet added "Fine, I'm making whatever, and you don't get to complain."

Steve laughed. "Sure, Buck. Don't forget we're going out with Sam tonight."

Bucky just nodded, setting about lunch.

-:-

Later on in the day, Bucky was slipping on his black leather boots when he looked up to find Steve leaning against the doorframe, watching him. "What's up, punk?"

"Wanted to know if you wanted to take your bike out? It's nice tonight."

Bucky smiled; he and Steve hadn't ridden together for over a year. "Absolutely. Leave in five?"

The blonde smiled back, stood straight, and said "You look real nice, Buck." Then, he turned on his heel and walked away. Bucky looked down at himself, confused. He just wore light jeans, a gray tee shirt, and his black leather jacket. He wore a variation of this outfit every single time they went out with Sam; it wasn't anything remotely new or different.

Shaking his head, he slipped the other boot on and grabbed his motorcycle key off his nightstand. Steve was holding their full head helmets and handed Bucky his, and the two locked up before heading to the apartment's small garage. Their bikes stood together, but both got on Bucky's, Steve holding loosely onto his best friend.

In a few minutes, Bucky was parking the bike. They locked the helmets to it and headed inside the bar. Sam was already there, sat at their usual booth, with his usual smile. He stood as the two men approached, hugging Steve and smiling at Bucky. They sat for a minute before Bucky stood. "I'll go grab some beers."

"Get four, I invited a friend," Steve said, grinning. Oh no, Bucky knew that look; Steve was up to something. He sent his best friend a look, before heading over to the bar. The familiar bartender smiled at him, surprised when Bucky raised four fingers. He popped the tops off of four bottles, handing them over with a grin. Bucky smiled back and headed back over.

As he got closer, he noticed dark blonde hair and wide shoulders and- oh. Oh _no_.

Steve, Sam, and _Clint_ all looked over at Bucky's stunned face. The brunet blinked slowly, seeing the smuggest look on Steve's face. "Buck, you've met Clint, right?"

Bucky's brain kicked back into gear, setting down the beers and settling next to Clint. "Uh, yeah. Hey," he smiled, turning to the blonde.

"Hey," Clint smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling. _God_, he was too beautiful.

"How, um," Bucky started, stumbling over his words. "How do you know Steve?"

"Ran into him when I was walking Lucky one day. We got a beer and chatted." A look of realization washed over his face, eyes wide. "Oh! You're the best friend he was talking about! I-" He slapped his hand to his face. "I'm so stupid."

"Hey, no, you're not," Bucky immediately followed. Clint looked up at him slowly, a small smile gracing his lips; Bucky could feel his heart in his throat.

Well, _shit_.

Sam and Clint chatted easily about the latest baseball game. Apparently, the Yankees had a tough game with the LA Angels but still managed to beat them. Or was it the other way around? Bucky didn't know; he was too focused on trying not to focus on Clint. And ignoring Steve's obvious smirk headed his direction. Steve was the worst.

Clint finished his beer and offered to grab Steve another as he got up. He nodded, grinning. As Clint walked away, Steve and Sam looked at him with shit-eating grins. "So..." Steve trailed.

"So, what?" Bucky responded coolly.

"So Clint's pretty great," Sam elaborated, looking entirely too happy.

"Yeah, and?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Buck. Look at him. He'd be good for you."

Bucky did look. He looked at long legs and wide shoulders and arms that looked too good in a tight black t-shirt. He looked at the easy smile on his face, his relaxed frame leaning on the bar. He looked at the way his head fell back in a laugh at the bartender, how his eyes shined. And looking at him, Bucky realized. He could see himself wrapped up in those arms, causing the easy smile, making him tilt his head back in laughter.

Bucky's face felt warm, immediately looking down at the table when Clint started to turn. He could hear his two friends snickering, and felt his cheeks warm when Clint plopped back next to him. "Here ya are," he said, sliding the bottle towards Steve. "Oh hey, Bucky, are you okay?"

Bucky peeked up to see him looking back. He smiled a small smile. "Ah, yeah, I'm alright."

"Just making sure," Clint smiled, tentatively patting his leg.

Sam and Steve were grinning at him and one another, tilting their heads back to sip their beers. Bucky was going to kill them one day, he swears.

"So, Clint, ya seeing anyone?" Steve asked with a sideways glance towards Bucky.

Okay, maybe Bucky was going to kill Steve first.

The blonde shook his head. "Nah, I haven't really dated much in a while." Clint glanced over to Bucky and immediately looked away. "I, uh... Not great at making a move, and I... uh, no," he stumbled, before taking a swig of his beer.

Sam nodded with an understanding smile, before changing the subject. "What about you, Steve? How're things going with Peggy?"

Steve's cheeks pinked, as a wide smile found his lips. "Pretty good, I think we're going to dinner soon."

"I swear to God, Steve," Bucky started, "you better not do anything to her. I like my job." Before Steve could open his mouth, Bucky added. "I take that back. She could kick your ass without a second thought."

Steve let out an offended "hey!" and Sam laughed.

"Sorry, Steve, that woman scares me."

"Wuss," Bucky teased.

"Bitch," Sam shot back with a wide grin.

"How're things going with you, Sam? I'm sure your relationship with Righty is going great."

Sam bust out a fit of laughter, a playful glare in his eyes. "I really hate you, man."

"Me too, Sam, me too," Bucky laughed as he sipped his beer, glancing at Clint. The blonde was looking at Bucky with a warm, amused smile, before swigging his beer. "Peggy's my manager, by the way. Steve's had a crush on her probably since I got hired some 8 years ago." Bucky glanced at Steve long enough to see him start to open his mouth. "Nope, no denial. It's true."

Steve sighed, looking at his beer bottle. "You're right."

"Damn straight," Bucky grinned, turning back to Clint. "So, how was work this week?"

Clint smiled. "Was real good, actually. My seniors are checked out, but some of the juniors seem to have a little gusto left."

"Did you have the meeting with the principal yet?

Bucky winced slightly as soon as the words left Steve's mouth. Clint's face fell, just a bit before he plastered on a too-big smile. "Not yet. Waiting on that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, man," Steve said, as Clint tipped his head back and finished his beer. He just smiled, still too big.

"No worries. I'll be right back."

Clint got up, and Bucky watched worriedly as he stalked off towards the bathroom. Blue eyes fell back on Steve, who was grimacing in the direction Clint went. "Steve," Bucky hissed.

"I'm sorry!" The blonde raised his hands in defense. "I didn't know, I haven't talked to him about work in a month."

Bucky grimaced quietly at his best friend, sipping his beer. "You're fine, Steve. I just hope he is."

Clint reappeared next to Bucky a few minutes later with a new beer, smiling.

"You okay, man?" Steve asked with an apologetic tone.

"Yeah, great! How's it been going back to work?"

Steve answered, and the three fell easily back into conversation, while Bucky watched Clint warily. He seemed mostly normal, despite his quick drinking and fingers tapping incessantly against his thigh. He snagged a fifth beer while Bucky was in the bathroom, and leaned heavily against him once he was back. Steve and Sam were talking, so Bucky turned his head to the blonde.

"Are you okay?" he murmured softly.

Clint nodded lazily. "'m fine," he slurred with a smile.

Bucky's heart thumped against his ribs at the bright blue eyes staring up at him. The brunet swallowed, blinking stupidly at him. Then, after a moment, he asked "Let me drive you home?"

Clint's smile widened and he nodded. He stood, catching Sam and Steve's attention. Their eyes shot from him to Bucky, with two equal concerned looks on their faces.

"I'm taking him home, alright?

Clint walked back over, tripping forward into Bucky. The brunet caught him, showing a small smile as the blonde met his eyes with a sheepish grin. "Thank you," he mumbled, resting his face in the crook of Bucky's neck.

Bucky blinked in surprise, before wrapping an arm around Clint's waist. The blonde looked up at Bucky, smiling dazedly.

Steve rested a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. "Sam's gonna take me home, you worry about him." Bucky just nodded, waving goodbye to the two.

When they got outside, Clint shivered, and Bucky thoughtlessly took off his jacket and helped him into it. The sleeves were a tad short, but it fit a bit big otherwise, and Bucky loved how Clint looked in it.

"Will you be able to hold onto me?"

"Yessir!" Clint slurred, grinning at him. Bucky chuckled, unlocked the helmets, and placed Steve's on his head. The blonde giggled as Bucky put on his own, and sat on the bike. He patted the seat behind him, and Clint plopped down, hugging Bucky tightly from behind and resting his chin on the brunet's shoulder. Bucky swallowed the bubbling feeling in his chest and started towards the blonde's building.

The whole way, Clint hummed, which Bucky could feel with the blonde's chest on his back. Clint's hand moved slightly here and there, one hand grazing just beneath the hem of the brunet's shirt; Bucky did his best to ignore it. The air rushing past was chilly, but the blonde radiated heat with his jacket on, so he felt alright. They reached the building not too long after, and he parked the bike. Clint was still hugging him tightly from behind, hand still pressed to Bucky's abdomen under his shirt.

"Clint, let's go in, okay?" He helped the blonde up, before locking the helmets to his bike. It wasn't hard for Bucky to support Clint, but the stairs did prove a bit difficult. After entirely too long, the two stumbled into Clint's apartment, Lucky looking up at them from the couch.

Bucky helped Clint into his room and rifled through the drawers of his dresser to find him some gray sweatpants. He handed them to Clint, who unabashedly stripped off his jeans in front of Bucky. The brunet turned away as Clint stumbled into the sweatpants, looking back at him when he felt a hand on his left arm. "You need some, too," Clint slurred, pulling out a dark purple pair and handing them to Bucky.

"Clint, I'm going home once you're in bed."

"No, you gotta stay, issa sleepover. Put 'm on." Bucky sighed, and turned around, undoing his belt and jeans, and stepped into the pants. They were far too long for Bucky, so he tied them and cuffed the bottoms as well as he could. "You gotta nice butt," Clint smiled at him when he turned back around; Bucky blushed brightly. But instead of paying much attention to that, the blonde got into one side of his bed and opened the covers. "Cuddle time," he stated, staring at Bucky.

The brunet let out a deep sigh, before laying down next to Clint, leaving a bit of room. Clint was having none of this and latched onto him. After tensing up for a moment, Bucky relaxed against the blonde, reaching up to take his hearing aids out. The taller man moved his head to make it easier, before laying it back down as Bucky laid them on the table. The two blinked at each other, and Clint grinned stupidly at the brunet. Bucky looked back confused and flushed. They laid nearly forehead to forehead, and Clint reached up to play with the ends of Bucky's hair, closing his eyes.

When his breathing evened out, Bucky slowly made a move to get up. To his surprise, Clint pulled himself into Bucky's chest, mumbling "No leaving." Bucky sighed and closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up in someone's arms was a foreign feeling, even stranger than even just waking up next to someone. Bucky had never had the experience of it.

So waking up this morning felt odd, what with arms snaked around his waist and hands resting on his back, beneath his shirt. Not to mention the legs tangled with his own underneath the sheets. Not to say he didn't like it, not at all. He liked his left arm draped over Clint and his metal hand pressed lightly against the space between shoulder blades. He liked his right arm under and hand resting in short hair. And he really liked Clint's slow, even breaths against his chest and his nose buried in dark blonde hair. Bucky closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, and just rested.

It wasn't for another ten minutes that Clint began to stir. His left arm was under something, someone, and the right was around them. He stretched his fingers, brushing against warm skin and hard muscles. His eyes blinked open, staring into a collar bone. The blonde tilted his head back, staring right at Bucky's relaxed, sleeping face. He smiled, feeling the hands in his hair and on his back; was this the first time Bucky had really touched him with his metal arm, he wondered.

Bucky looked peaceful, all the tension he seemed to carry melted away. His cheeks were flushed a pale pink and his lips parted ever so slightly; Clint couldn't help but think about how easy it would be just to lean up and kiss him. Instead, he sighed out, "I could wake up to this every day..." What he didn't expect was Bucky's eyes to shoot open, startling Clint. "Aw, fuck, no." Clint removed his right hand from Bucky to grab at his head. "Ow, fuck, no."

Bucky retracted his hands, and slowly sat up, and Clint didn't hide the pained look on his face. Oddly, the brunet pulled the covers around the blonde and walked out of the room. Clint released a shaky breath, burying his head into the space between the pillows.

He was an idiot.

He felt a weight on the side of the bed near him, causing him to whip his head up, before clutching at it as his eyes focused on Bucky. The brunet smiled fondly, handing over some pills first and then a glass of water. Clint sipped it, enough to get the pills down, eyes fixed on Bucky. Speaking slow and deliberate, Clint lip-read as Bucky said "Drink all of it. You'll feel better." He nodded and finished the glass. The brunet took it, disappearing into the kitchen once more.

Clint laid back down, resting his head against his pillow, and breathing slowly. He willed his headache to just go away, cuddling into his sheets. He stared at the spot on the bed next to him and didn't want to think about moving, or about Bucky.

Bucky.

Clint knew, that he only stayed to give him pills because Bucky was a good man. Far too good for a human disaster such as himself. God, why did Clint say that? It's not like Bucky was interested in him. And Clint was totally, one-hundred percent fine with being his friend; he's an amazing person. He'd be lucky to have a friend like Bucky.

And then Clint said that.

Interrupting his thoughts, Clint could faintly smell coffee. Coffee? And then he saw the brunet walking in, two mugs in his left hand, a plate in his right, and a golden retriever in his heels. The blonde's eyes widened as he sat up, staring at Bucky as he handed him the plate of toast and scrambled eggs and the mug of coffee. "You… You're amazing."

Bucky shrugged it off, but couldn't help but notice the red in his cheeks. Lucky jumped up and sprawled in the middle of the bed, and the brunet took the spot next to Clint's legs. He sipped at his coffee as Clint ate, a hand buried in the golden's fur.

A few minutes passed, and Bucky glanced up at Clint and seemed shocked to see him looking back. The blonde startled, blushed, and looked into his mug. He sipped at it, setting the plate on the nightstand next to him and picking up the hearing aids. He fit them into his ears, sighed as the sounds of New York and Lucky's panting filled his ears once again, and met Bucky's eyes. "Thank you."

Bucky just gave a small smile, replying, "It's nothing."

"But it's something. Really, Bucky… You could've left me at the bar, or just left as soon as I was in my apartment. This," he lifted his mug, "means a whole lot. Especially after dealing with me the night before."

"I really don't mind," he lifted his mug to his lips as Clint took a sip. "About what you said earlier…"

Clint choked on the coffee, swallowing then coughing profusely into his elbow. "Sorry about that, I, ah… I don't really think before I speak sometimes." His cheeks were on fire, and he stared intently at his own lap.

"Hey, it's alright," Bucky rested his hand over Clint's covered shin. "I, ah…" The brunet turned red, looking down at the coffee on his lap. "I didn't mind it." Clint was staring at him with wide eyes again, but returned his gaze to the mug again, when Bucky peeked at him. "I know that you said that you don't have a girlfriend, and I know that doesn't mean you're not straight, but I think you're... really cute? Stunning, really. It's just been so damn long since I've dated anyone and I know I'm rambling, but I feel really comfortable with you and I hope that we can stay friends after this because I think you're amazing," Bucky stopped abruptly, taking in a deep breath, and squeezing his eyes shut.

Clint froze, his brain reading radio static. Bucky thought he was stunning? Oh fuck, this was happening.

"I'm bi," Clint said shyly, after a few minutes. Bucky's head whipped up, taking in the blonde's bright red cheeks and small smile. "I also think you're cute and stunning and amazing, and we can stay friends if that's really what you want. But, if you want, maybe we can go get dinner sometime?" His voice got higher and quieter as he finished his sentence, and man, was his heart pounding.

Bucky took a moment to stare at the blonde in disbelief, seeming to be processing what he said. Clint was anxious, biting his lip, but refused to look away from Bucky. After a few moments, Bucky smiled. "Yeah," he breathed, "I'd like that."

Clint sighed in relief, his wide shoulders falling as his tension dissipated. "Oh, thank god. You're too pretty."

Once their coffee was finished, the two men got up and moved into the kitchen. Bucky moved to clean the dishes, but Clint argued. "No, no, you made me breakfast, I can clean them." But the brunet refused and took just a few minutes to clean the dishes. Clint just shook his head at him, his blue eyes shining. "You look cute, wearing my sweats all rolled, by the way." Bucky turned away to hide the blush that seemed to be burned into his face.

Once the dishes were done, Bucky moved to change back into his jeans and found himself at the front door with Clint. The two were smiling shyly at one another. "Thank you, for everything, Bucky." He opened his arms in offering.

Bucky grinned back, wrapping his arms around the blonde. The hug was tight, Bucky's nose pressing into the space below Clint's collar bone, and the blonde's face buried in dark hair. When the two pulled away, they smiled at each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. "Text me, okay?" Bucky asked as he opened the door, and the blonde nodded. The two grinned at each other for another minute, before the brunet left, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door closed, Clint collapsed next to Lucky on the floor, petting him excitedly and burying his face in the dog's chest. "Oh, my god, Luck…" He rested against the dog for a few minutes, smile staying constant.

"I take it you got a date?"

Clint jumped, eyes falling on his best friend smirking in the doorway. "Yeah," Clint breathed.

"I could tell. He was straight-up grinning when he got to his bike."

Clint just smiled back. "He made me breakfast, Tash. Dealt with me drunk."

Natasha gave her friend a small smile. "He seems like a good guy, Clint."

The blonde beamed, pulling out his phone. He sent Bucky a quick text. "Let me know you got home alright, okay?" Clint shoved the phone back into his pocket, got up from the floor, and flopped onto the couch. Natasha followed, sitting next to Clint.

"Movie day, I take it?" Natasha asked. Clint nodded, handing her the remote. She flipped over to a chick flick, knowing they were secretly his favorite.

Clint's phone buzzed, and he didn't try to hide his excitement when he opened the message. "I'm home, and absolutely covered in dog hair."

The blonde found himself grinning. "You get used to it, trust me. It's not all that bad."

"I'm not complaining."

The two men went back and forth, a permanent grin on the blonde's face. Eventually, they figured out when and where their date would be, and Clint felt stupidly happy. Friday night, they'd go to this nice pizza place Bucky had found years ago with Steve. Their plans came together easily, and the hardest part about the ordeal was waiting until Friday came around.

And it was tough. Not that the two didn't see each other, that wasn't the issue. Bucky worked every morning that week, and, every morning, Clint came in to see him and get a coffee. They talked back and forth, completely engrossed in the short morning conversations they held.

On Friday morning, the two were smiling stupidly at one another. Bucky handed over his latte, asking "I'll come get you around 6:30?"

"That sounds great," Clint blushed. "Have a good day, Buck."

"You too, sweetheart." The two looked at each other with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

"I like that," Clint beamed. He could see Bucky breathing a sigh of relief, his own grin finding his face again. "I'll see you tonight." With that, Clint left, the biggest grin on his face.

When Clint got to school, Kate was waiting outside his room, looking up as he approached. "You seem happy," she mused, smiling at him. She gathered her things as Clint unlocked the door to his classroom. "What's up, Mr. Barton?"

"I... I have a date tonight," he smiled shyly.

"Really? That's awesome! Who with?" Kate grinned at him.

"You know the barista at the Starbucks around the corner? He's got long brown hair and blue eyes."

"The big, beefy, 'don't fuck with me' one? Yeah, he's cute." She nodded her approval. "Plus, how he smiled at you when I saw you there? Totally surprised it's taken this long."

"You spend too much time with Nat."

"No, you're just easy to harass."

Clint scoffed, falling into his chair dramatically. "You dare speak to a teacher that way, young lady?"

"Only the ones I like," Kate shot back with a grin.

Clint let out a laugh. "Oh, I'd love to hear you speak like that to Nat." Kate laughed in response, shaking her head.

The rest of the day dragged on. His students were more or less working on their final projects, so he mainly sat back and did just enough to be sure no one hurt themselves. During their lunch break, Natasha sat on one of his tables, and the two ate quietly together. After a bit, Natasha opened her mouth. "Did you buy an outfit for tonight?"

Clint looked up from his pasta, eyes furrowed. "No? Should I have?"

The redhead shook her head with a sigh. "He's picking you up at 6:30?" Clint nodded. "Alright. I'm taking you shopping right after work. No messing around." He nodded once more, taking an unnecessarily large bite of pasta; Natasha sighed. "It's a good thing you're cute, because you're gross."

-:-

At six, Clint was already ready, to both his and Natasha surprise. "This is the earliest you've been ready for anything."

"I'm nervous, okay?" He ran a hand through his styled hair, before wincing, remembering how long he'd stared at himself in the mirror trying to get it to look perfect.

Natasha chuckled and pulled him into the bathroom. "Sit down, you giant." He set himself on the toilet lid, and she carefully moved his hair, speaking gently. "There's no need to be nervous, Clint. You guys are gonna go and have a lovely time." Clint nodded half-heartedly; She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. "Seriously. Bucky's lucky to have a shot with you, you're the best person I know."

Clint leaned forward into her stomach, mumbling "Love you, Tash."

"I love you, too, idiot." She pulled him up to his feet, smiling up at him. "You look great, by the way."

The blonde looked at himself in the mirror, and yeah, Natasha was right. The grey pinstriped button-up and dark wash jeans she had him buy looked good on him; the jeans especially looked good on his butt, which is exactly why she chose them. This was the most put-together he looked in a long time, probably.

But it was also the first date he'd been on in a long time, too.

Natasha hung around with him for another fifteen minutes, before she placed a kiss on his forehead and left him with Lucky. The two sat on the couch, Lucky breathing in Clint's face, but he was too distracted by his thoughts to even care. He simply pet the dog and waited.

The clock read 6:27 when he heard the knock. Clint scrambled to his feet, Lucky hot on his heels, and took a moment to breathe before he opened the door. Behind it was Bucky, dressed in black jeans, a white and maroon pinstriped button-up, and his black leather jacket. His hair was pulled up into a half-bun, and the smile he wore was somehow more breathtaking than usual. Clint realized he was staring, and gave the man a smile back. "Hey," he breathed.

"Hey," Bucky responded, looking Clint up and down himself, before focusing his blue eyes back on Clint's. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, absolutely." Clint turned to Lucky. "Be a good boy, alright?" The dog just wagged his tail, and Clint took that as confirmation.

The two men ambled down to the street, and Bucky handed him the other helmet and put on his own. They got on, and Clint blushed when he wrapped his arms around Bucky. His drunk self may have already done it, but now, sober, was a whole new experience. Bucky was incredibly focused, but smiled at Clint at stop lights with a quick "All good?". Clint would nod and Bucky would rub his knee before the light changed again.

Soon enough, the pair reached the restaurant, and Bucky locked the helmets. The two walked in, and the hostess smiled at them. "I have a reservation for Barnes?"

"Right this way," she gestured, and the men followed. She led them to a secluded corner of the restaurant, where a booth sat with a small white candle in the middle of the table. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?"

Usually, Clint would order a beer without a single thought, but should he try to be classy, this being a date and all? Besides, Bucky had seen him drunk less than a week ago, and maybe he shouldn't remind him of that.

"I'll take the IPA on draft," Bucky interrupted his thoughts, giving her a polite smile.

"Uh, make that two, please."

She grinned at them, nodding. "I'll have those in just a minute."

Clint looked back to Bucky, who was already giving him a small smile. "I could see you panicking."

The blonde blushed, looking down. "I'm kinda nervous, if I'm being honest."

A hand took his left, and he looked up to meet Bucky's eyes, after hearing a gentle "Hey." The brunet ran his thumb over Clint's knuckles. "Don’t be nervous, alright? If anyone, I should be nervous. You're the first fella I've taken out since I joined the army."

Clint blinked. "I… Really? How?" He slapped his free hand to his mouth. "Shit, I mean… It's just, you're gorgeous? And amazing and just..." he took a deep breath instead of finishing.

Bucky shrugged, looking down at their hands, continuing to draw shapes on the back of Clint's. "I think my murder look and missing arm have deterred a lot of guys," he joked weakly.

Clint smiled at him, tangling their fingers together; Bucky looked up at him. "Not me."

"I hate to tell you sweetheart, but you're not a normal guy." The blonde shrugged back, grinning. "Not that I'd have you any other way."

Their dinner passed by quicker than Clint would've liked, and Bucky paid before he even got to argue. The brunet brushed off Clint's protesting as they left, smiling at him. "Walk sound good?" The blonde nodded, sending a smile right back. The two got back on the bike, and Bucky drove them over to Brooklyn Bridge Park.

They got off, and walked side by side, chatting easily, until they reached the railing at the river. Clint smiled at the sky as the sunset, and Bucky's voice caught in his throat. The sun cast an orange glow across the blonde's features and left his blue eyes shining. Clint didn't notice, however, as he stared out across to Manhattan.

"Y'know," he turned his head to look at the brunet. "I've lived here for thirteen years and I never once thought to come here to see the sunset." His smile was almost shy, and his voice quiet when he spoke next. "Thank you, Buck."

"Anything for you." Clint wrapped an arm around Bucky and firmly set his hand on his waist, pulling the two close. Bucky smiled to himself, leaning his head slightly to rest against Clint's shoulder. They watched together, as the sunset and the sky slowly went dark. As the stars began to show themselves, Clint shivered at the gradually dropping temperatures. "We can go if you-"

"No!" Bucky looked up to see Clint blush brightly, before continuing softly. "I don't want to leave yet." The brunet smiled fondly and moved from the blonde's arms. He ignored his confusion, slipping off his leather jacket; Clint refused it at first. "No, Buck, you'll get cold." Bucky rolled his eyes, placing it in his hands, grinning as the taller man put it on.

"Do you wanna walk some? It'll help warm you up." After receiving a nod, Bucky took Clint's left hand in his right, walking close enough to feel some of his body heat radiating off of him. "So you teach archery?" He glanced up as Clint's smile split into a full grin.

"Yeah, yeah I do." He looked down at Bucky. "I learned how to shoot when I was a kid and I've done what I can to become really good."

"That's great, sweetheart. I'm sure the kids love it."

"There's not a lot of them, but the ones who take it love it." He smiled down at himself. "One of my favorite students, Kate, she's amazing at it. Really gonna miss her when she graduates next year."

Bucky didn't miss the sad tone to his voice and gave his hand a squeeze. Clint met his eyes, and they just shared small smiles. After a moment, the brunet added, "Kate's the one I saw that one time, right? At work?"

The blonde scrunched his nose in thought, and if that wasn't cutest thing Bucky had ever seen. "Oh! Yeah, you're right. She's a great kid." Clint smiled down at him, eyes shining. "I think she hangs out with Nat too much though. They both harass me."

"Does Natasha work at the school too?"

Clint nodded. "Yep, she's a Russian teacher, makes commutes real nice sometimes." Bucky nodded, glancing at the stars. "I know what Steve does, but your other friend, Sam? What's he up to?"

"He works at the VA, helping guys like me readjust and work through nightmares and stuff."

The blonde knocked his shoulder with a smile. "You seem pretty well readjusted."

Bucky shrugged. "I've been home for a while now. Still have nightmares, but I've had time to heal. Sam was a huge help, told me to call him any time of day, even in the middle of the night."

"I can tell you guys are good friends, though." Bucky looked up at him, a questioning look in his eyes. "You two wouldn't stop snarking at each other last weekend, and Steve looked so exasperated," Clint laughed.

"Steve doesn't understand it, but I really do love Sam," he chuckled.

Their hands knocked together, and the two smiled at one another. Shyly, Clint took Bucky's hand in his own; Bucky tangled his fingers between Clint's easily. Grinning stupidly at the ground, the two continued their walk quietly. It got later and Bucky was unable to hide his shivers any longer. Still, he refused to take his jacket back, as they walked back to his motorcycle.

Bucky took a long way back to Clint's building, but Clint didn't mind. He relaxed more fully against Bucky's back, who drew mindless shapes into his knee at every light with his thumb. Clint's body heat kept the brunet warm and smiling.

After parking the bike, the two walked hand in hand up to Clint's apartment. As they reached the door, Clint turned to face Bucky, smiling shyly. "I had a lot of fun tonight," he mumbled, looking down at his left hand in Bucky's right. His eyes flicker up to Bucky's, the intense blue shining in the dim hallway lights. "I'd like to call you my boyfriend, if that's alright?"

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, "that sounds great."

Carefully, the blonde took Bucky's metal hand in his own, ignoring the shock in those blue eyes. "Can I kiss you?" Slowly, he nodded, and Clint leaned forward, bending his neck, and gently pressed his lips against Bucky's. The brunet kissed back, and warmth bubbled in Clint's chest. He smiled stupidly as he slowly broke their lips apart.

As he leaned back up to his full height, Bucky dropped his hands, latched them around Clint's neck, and stood on his toes as he brought their lips back together. With a surprised noise stuck in his throat, the blonde stumbled a step, before letting his eyes slip closed and arms wrap around Bucky's waist.

It felt right, kissing Bucky. He smelled like coffee and cologne and Clint sighed happily, breathing it in. His thumbs rubbed circles into the small of Bucky's back, smiling a bit when the brunet nipped gently at his bottom lip. He parted his lips as Bucky tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his beard tickling slightly against Clint's face.

God, if he knew kissing Bucky was this great, Clint would've asked him out a month ago.

After what felt like forever and yet not nearly long enough, the two pulled back, if only an inch or two, to catch their breaths, Clint's eyes slipping open. Bucky's head was still tilted slightly to the side, as his eyes slowly opened to meet the blonde's. His lips curled into a smile that stopped Clint's heart, if only for a moment. The blonde let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to press his forehead against Bucky's. The brunet stole another quick kiss, cupping his right hand on the side of Clint's face.

They stood, for a few minutes, just looking into one another's eyes and smiling.

Bucky slowly lowered himself back to stand in his whole foot, gaze never leaving Clint. His left hand fell to rest against the blonde's chest as he rubbed his right thumb over Clint's cheek, murmuring "You're real pretty." The other man's cheeks burned, and Bucky's smile grew. He stretched up to kiss the blushed skin. "I should probably go before Steve gets worried," he added, not really moving.

Clint nodded, a quiet "Thank you," falling from his lips.

Bucky grinned a charming smile. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

Clint leaned down to kiss him softly, one last time. "Text me that you get home okay?"

Bucky nodded, squeezing his arm. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Clint responded. With one last smile, Bucky turned around and made his way to the stairwell. He glanced over at the blonde once more, and then was gone from his vision.

Clint stood in front of the window, watching as the brunet reached his bike, looked up at the building with a smile as he fumbled with his helmet, and rode away. With a huge grin, he opened his door, unsurprised by Natasha sitting quietly on the couch with Lucky, a book on her lap and her hand buried in the golden's fur. A movie played quietly on the TV, just loud enough to hear. Lucky bounded over as he kicked off his shoes, and Clint scratched his ears with a grin before making his way to Natasha and flopping ungracefully next to her. She simply moved her book to allow him to rest his head on her lap, grinning up at her.

"I take it your date went well."

"Only amazing, Nat."

"I figured, you two were standing out in the hall for a while." Clint grinned up at her. She gave him a soft smile, carding her fingers through his hair. "Tell me about it?" Clint smiled up at her, sighing. He retold everything that happened, a grin on his face. A small smile played on Natasha's lips as she nodded along to his enthusiastic story, continuing playing with his hair. Quietly, she said, "I'm really happy for you, за́йчик."

Before he got the chance to respond, Clint's phone buzzed. He slid it from his pocket, looking at the text from Bucky.

"Sorry about texting you late, sweetheart. Steve interrogated me as soon as I walked in."

Clint grinned, tapping away immediately. "It's alright, Natasha was waiting on my couch for me."

"I really had a great time though, same time next week?"

Clint suddenly felt giggly and bubbly; his chest felt like it was gonna burst, but in the best way possible. Kate would mock him for acting like a teenage girl. "I'd love to." 

Natasha picked her book back up with a small smile on her face, enjoying Clint's smiles and quiet giggles.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky smiled when Clint entered the store, placing his normal order. He slid over, an easy, tired smile on his face as he watched Bucky work.

"Morning," Bucky murmured, meeting blue eyes.

"Morning," Clint mumbled back, rubbing one of his eyes.

"Brighten up, it's Friday," the brunet chided with a fond smile.

"Means no one's gonna do their work today."

"More the reason to kick back today." Bucky began steaming the milk for Clint's latte, pulling the shots a moment later. "Did you still want to hang out tonight?" he asked almost nonchalantly, fidgeting with the stacks of lids. Clint could hear the hesitation in his voice, see his eyes flicking up nervously.

"That sounds wonderful. What do you have in mind?" Tension released from Bucky's shoulders, as he shrugged.

"Dunno. Movie? Steve's not gonna be home so I have the apartment to myself."

"Only if you make me dinner," Clint winked.

Bucky blushed ever so slightly. "So demanding."

"And yet," Clint grinned.

The brunet shook his head with a small smile, handing over the latte. "Text me later, and we'll figure out the details. Have a good day, sweetheart."

"You too," he responded, brushing his fingers against Bucky's as he took the latte. "See you, tonight."

After Clint left, Shannon snickered at Bucky. He flung a lid at her with dead-on accuracy, smirking at her playful glare.

-:-

"What's this for, Buck?"

Bucky looked up to find Steve leaning over the counter. "Clint's coming over," he responded, cutting some potatoes. "What are you up to again?

"Helping Sam with his apartment and getting beer out of it."

"Sounds like a dream," Bucky chuckled.

"I'll see ya later, okay, jerk?" Bucky looked up to Steve, who had his arms open.

With a smile, he hugged the blonde tightly. "Have fun, ya punk." Steve returned the hug, rubbing Bucky's back. After a moment, he walked to the door, gave him a smile as he opened it, and left.

Bucky kept cooking, throwing the potatoes in the oven to join the steaks. He began to clean up when he heard a knock at the door. His heart starting beating just a bit faster, as he walked over. Opening the door revealed Clint, smiling shyly at him. Bucky grinned, pulling him in gently and closing the door. Hesitantly, the blonde leaned down slightly, and Bucky met him halfway, giving him a short kiss. "Hi," Clint mumbled, smiling. "Something smells amazing."

Bucky took Clint hand, pulling him over to the breakfast bar. "I hope you like steak and potatoes."

Clint looked at him in surprise as he sat down on the stool, his head now just below Bucky's. With a smile, he pulled Bucky back to him, kissing him gently again. "Sounds amazing, babe."

Bucky smiled, running a hand through Clint's hair, before asking "What would you like to drink?" He went around to the fridge and opened it, his eyes resting softly on Clint.

"What are you having?"

"Brown ale," he held up the bottle.

"Sounds good." Bucky smiled, opening one and handing it over. Clint mumbled a thank you before taking a sip. "How was your day?"

The brunet shrugged, sipping his beer. "Pretty good. Left before the after school rush and spent a while at the gym. How was yours?"

"Same old, same old. Kids half ass-ing my class and the principal hasn't talked to me yet."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Bucky walked around to hug Clint from behind and rested his chin on the blonde's shoulder. "I'm sure it's nothing bad, if he's waited so long."

Clint shrugged, relaxing into Bucky. "I..." He paused, looking at his lap. "I just don't know. Can we not talk about it?"

Bucky kissed Clint's temple, and the blonde couldn't help the content sigh escaping his lips. The brunet then moved, taking their steaks from the oven and setting them directly into a hot skillet. Clint simply watched as he finished cooking the steaks effortlessly, and plated up the dinner for the both of them. He sat right next to Clint, their knees bumping one another and they ate quietly. As they finished, the blonde smiled at him leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"That was amazing, Bucky, thank you." Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, setting their dishes in the sink. He held his right hand out to Clint, who took it with a smile and walked them over to the couch. They sat close, pressed into each other's sides.

"What would you like to watch?" Bucky asked, looking up at Clint. The blonde looked down, not missing just how close their faces were.

"I... Uh..." he stumbled, looking right into Bucky's eyes. Bucky smirked, shaking his head. He settled on a comedian's special, before looking back up at Clint with warm eyes. The blonde blinked at him, watching him slowly inch closer before pressing his lips to Clint's. He tilted his head and his chest bubbled when Bucky nibbled gently on his bottom lip. The brunet leaned more and more into him, pushing him back until suddenly he was laying on his back. Bucky crawled over him, resting the comforting weight of his body on Clint's. His hand found their place, rested low on Bucky's back. Bucky's right hand rested on his chest, his left situated near Clint's head, but not touching him.

After a moment, Clint pulled his head back, looking up. Bucky gave him a concerned look, looking down at him. "Is everything alright?"

Clint took Bucky's left wrist in his right, cupping the metal hand over his own cheek and holding it there. "I don't want you to worry about your arm, Buck. You can touch me with it."

Bucky quietly stared at him for a minute, eyes intense and body unmoving. Then, slowly, carefully, he ghosted his thumb over his cheekbone, leaning down and pressing his lips back to Clint's. He pulled back after a moment, eyes shining. "You're amazing," he breathed, a small smile on his lips.

The brunet rested his head on the curve of Clint's chest, and the blonde smiled as he buried his right hand in Bucky's hair. He twirled the locks between his fingers and enjoyed running his left thumb over the exposed strip Bucky's back. He could feel the brunet's muscles relax into him, splaying his metal hand against his chest.

The quiet, slow breaths that followed after a while weren't much of a shock, and Clint merely closed his eyes as well.

-:-

Clint's eyes fluttered open, focusing immediately on the pleasant weight on his chest. There, Bucky was still asleep, quiet snores escaping his parted lips, and curled up into him. Clint smiled, bringing his head down to kiss the top of his hair, and rubbing his thumbs over the exposed skin of his back.

A small creak in the floorboards caused him to whip his head around, eyes focusing on Steve standing just a few yards away. Steve was smiling at them, and it looked as if his eyes were shining.

"Hey," Clint greeted quietly, playing with Bucky's hair.

"Hey, Clint," Steve responded, taking in the scene, before meeting his eyes. "You're good for him." With that, he left, off into what he assumed was his room.

Clint sighed, resting his head against Bucky's. "I hope so," he mumbled. Bucky stirred, blinking a few times, and Clint leaned his head back in time to meet his eyes. "Hey," he breathed.

Bucky smiled groggily. "Hey, sweetheart... What time is it?"

Clint brought his wrist up to his face. "Uh... Half-past midnight."

"Mm..." Bucky rested his head back on the blonde's chest. "You can sleep over if ya want." Clint nodded, still drawing shapes into Bucky's skin.

"Let's get you to bed then." The brunet groaned as Clint started to sit up. "C'mon, I don't wanna carry you, but I will." After a minute of protesting, Bucky reluctantly got up and took Clint's hand, pulling them towards his room. It was small, but had more than enough room for the full-sized bed and his dresser.

Clint shyly fingered the hem of his shirt, looking at his boyfriend. "I, ah, I usually sleep in just my underwear."

Bucky shrugged with a tired smile. "No biggie, I usually do, too."

The blonde nodded, slowly unbuttoning the flannel he had on. Bucky's eyes watched intensely; Clint was _built. _And then, he was undoing his jeans and kicking them off clumsily. Suddenly, Bucky felt awake and entirely too aware of the half-naked man standing close. Clint chuckled nervously. "Your turn."

Bucky quickly shucked down his jeans, but hesitated with his t-shirt. His right hand touched where his skin met metal over that fabric and looked down. "It's not pretty..." he mumbled.

Clint cupped his face, forcing him to look up at him. "Hey," he breathed, "It's okay."

The brunet nodded slowly and slipped out of the shirt. His face burned, catching a glimpse of the ugly scarred shoulder from the corner of his eyes. Clint, ever so gently, leaned down and kissed the scars. "Beautiful, Buck..." he mumbled, placing once more kiss on his shoulder and one on his collar bone. His lips ghosted over Bucky's neck, throat, jaw, until he pressed them to Bucky's slowly, purposefully, with a hand resting on a metal forearm. He leaned back with a smile, and pulled his boyfriend to the bed, opening the gray covers and sliding in.

He watched as Bucky took a quiet breath and laid down next to him, snuggling into his warmth.

"Thank you."

Clint kissed his hair, before leaning to remove his hearing aids and set them on the nightstand next to him. "Don't thank me, gorgeous." He could feel Bucky's smile against his collar bone and buried his nose into dark hair as he let himself fall asleep.

-:-

Clint woke up again, surprised to see it was still dark, save the moon casting a glow from behind him. His brows knitted together until he felt Bucky shaking against him. He looked down, and his heart clenched seeing the brunet's faced screwed up in pain. He could feel his boyfriend's chest vibrating with the noise he was making. Clint couldn't be sure of what that was exactly, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He merely shushed him and ran his hand up and down his back.

Bucky's eyes slid open, and Clint then noticed the tears spilling over as he looked at Clint in almost a panic. Clint calmly reached behind him for his aids, eyes trained on Bucky, and sliding them in. The sound of a few cars and Steve's snores were drowned out by Bucky's quiet weeping. Slowly, carefully, Clint opened his mouth. "Your name is James Barnes, and you're in your apartment in Brooklyn. Steve is in the next room." He slowly rubbed circles into Bucky's back. "You're safe here."

Clint could see the tension gradually release from his shoulders, but his cheeks were still wet with tears. The blonde reached up so slowly that Bucky easily could've moved if he wanted. He didn't. Instead, he let Clint cup his face and brush away tears. "Clint," he whispered, voice watery.

"Shh, hey. I'm here. You're okay."

Bucky leaned forward, pressing his face into Clint's chest, eyelashes and hot tears brushing his collarbones. He mumbled soft words into Bucky's hair, fingers carding through it soothingly.

His shaking stilled slowly until he was relaxed against Clint. The blonde brushed some hair from Bucky's face, causing the brunet to meet his eyes. "Hey," he murmured, smiling down at Bucky.

"Hey," Bucky breathed back, eyes locked on Clint. The fingers gripping Clint's bare back relaxed, splaying against warm skin.

"Better now?"

"Yeah, I..." Clint began running his fingers through Bucky's hair again, eyes watching him intensely. Bucky's heart flipped, his body warm all over. "Yeah."

The blonde cupped his cheek, feeling the softly scratchy beard under his fingers. "I'm gonna take my ears out unless you want me to leave them in for a bit?" He waited to see Bucky shake his head, before slipping the aids out and setting them on the nightstand. As he lays back down, he lays face to face with Bucky. The blonde smiles, wrapping his arm back around him and rubbing his thumb in shapes at the small of his back.

The two laid quietly, merely looking at one another for a while. When the sun started to peak up in the skyline, Clint's eyes began to flutter closed, until his breaths were soft and slow.

Bucky sighed, glancing out the window at the lightening sky. Then, with a small smile, he tightened his hold on his boyfriend, closing his eyes.

-:-

Bucky didn't realize he dozed off until he woke up again, this time the sun was up fully, and he and Clint were still tangled together. His breath caught in his throat, remembering the night before. He closed his eyes, pulling himself closer to Clint.

"Hey," he heard a raspy mumble and opened his eyes to look up at Clint. The blonde's tired smile faded into a concerned frown. He moved his hand to cup Bucky's cheek. "Is everything alright, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he gave Clint a small smile. 

Clint's frown softened. "I'm glad to hear it, gorgeous, I know how rough nights like that are. I've been there before.

Bucky stared at him, long and hard, as he reached over and put in his aids. "You've been there before...?"

Clint rubbed his thumb over Bucky's cheek, a small smile beginning to surface on his lips. "You can unlock my tragic backstory later, alright? Do you wanna do something together today?" Bucky nodded silently. "Anything you want."

Before Bucky could respond, a knock came from the bedroom door, followed by Steve sticking his head in. He smiled with a cheery hello, and held up two coffee cups, and set them on the table, before leaving again. In pretty, neat scrawl that Bucky knew had to be Peggy's, their names were written on the cups. The two sat up just enough, and Bucky handed Clint the cup with his name, before sipping his own, a vanilla latte with an extra shot. He smiled at the taste, before looking at his boyfriend.

"Buck, I might just have to leave you for Steve."

Bucky snorted, his chest feeling light for the first time that day. "That would be a stellar plan if he wasn't straight and probably taken by my manager. And, oh, y'know, I didn't work at a coffee shop."

Clint grinned and leaned down to press his lips to Bucky's, not missing the hint of vanilla on his tongue.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ready? All clear!"

Arrows shot across the gym into the targets, many hitting just outside of the mark. Clint smiled, walking down the line. "Peter, Johnny! Nice job!" Clint grinned at the two boys. The blonde knocked the brunet's shoulder with a fond smile. Peter smiled shyly, brown eyes shining. "Pietro," he looked at the smirking blonde. "Stop being so smug. Wanda," he turned to the other twin, ignore the scoff. "You're doing better; go ahead and nock an arrow, but don't shoot yet." She did, so, looking up at him with big eyes. He fixed her arms, before quiet uttering "And, release."

The arrow sailed and hit on the edge of the bullseye, but in it nonetheless. Wanda gaped, looking from her teacher to her brother. Clint just smiled and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. He looked over to Kate's target, his smile only widening at the sight of it just off-center. "You're gonna be better than me, Kate."

"I doubt it, Mr. Barton."

He snorted. "I want you to be. I want you all to be better than me," he added, looking at his students. His heart swelled at their grins, and he nodded. "Alright, guys. Go get your arrows, we're done for today. Maybe everyone will show up next week."

The five teenagers ran to retrieve their arrows, and Clint watched them proudly, before noticing movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced up, locking eyes with one Dr. Coulson. The smile on his face faded.

"Mr. Barton! Do you want us to out away the targets?" Kate called.

Clint looked over and saw his students watching him right back. He plastered on a too-big smile, calling back "Nah, I'll take care of them. You guys go home, you did well today."

Dr. Coulson walked over as the students took the quivers and bows to their equipment locker, and walked out of the gym with a wave or a 'bye'. Kate stood in the doorway, for just a minute, making eye contact with Clint. He gave her a half-hearted smile, waving her off. She waved back, leaving with one last glance.

"You're very good with them, Clint."

The blonde turned back, taking in the easy smile and relaxed posture of the principal. After a moment, he responded. "Yeah, they're great kids. Really doing amazing."

Coulson nodded. "I'm sorry it's taken forever to meet with you. Coming to the of the year and all that."

"It's alright, sir. I understand."

"Clint, we're friends, none of that 'sir' stuff." Slowly, Clint nodded.

"Alright, Phil."

"Do you want to talk here, or go to my office?"

Clint stiffened, standing taller. "With all due respect, if you're going to fire me, I rather you do it now."

Phil's eyes widened, staring at the blonde. "Fire you? How did you- Where did you get that from?"

"I mean, what with the meeting and avoiding me. I know you don't want to, Phil, we're friends. But I understand why you have to, what with STEM classes and robotics and-"

"Clint." Phil's hand landed heavily on his shoulder. "I'm not firing you. Not at all. We would've probably had a conversation much, much longer ago."

Clint's shoulders fell, meeting Phil's eyes. "Oh." He paused, before adding sheepishly "I guess I didn't think of it that way."

The principal nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze before pulling back. "Actually, I come with a request."

"What's that?" the blonde asked, tilting his head to the side.

"We have significant numbers requesting a class that I believe you're not only capable of teaching, but students have asked for it with you in mind." Phil smiled. "How would you like to teach sign language next year?"

Clint's breath caught in his throat, staring dumbly at the man in front of him. "Sign... Sign language?"

Phil nodded. "The students love you, Clint. There'd be an uprising if you were fired."

Clint processed for a moment. "What're you talking about? Kids don't take my classes seriously."

"I knew that, everyone knows that," the principal added nonchalantly, "but they love you for you. I overhear so many comments from students and parents that you're who they go to when they need help or want to talk. Sometimes students who don't even have you. You make them feel at ease, you treat them like adults and not children. And they want to learn more from you." Phil smiled again. "What do you say?"

Clint stared at him, dumbfounded. "I..." He breathed, ignoring the pounding in his chest. "I mean, yeah, absolutely, I would love to." The blonde paused. "Wait, will I still be able to teach woodworking?"

Phil nodded, his smile widening. "Of course. You'll get a second classroom between your and the Spanish room, that empty one? And I'll allow you to keep wearing what you do." He glanced at Clint's flannel, jeans, and work boots. "Not to mention a definite raise, but we can talk business later. I'm really happy, Clint, and the students are gonna be thrilled." He patted Clint's shoulder. "Have a good long weekend."

As soon as the principal was gone, Clint shakily reached for the bleachers, setting himself down heavily. Since when had his students started to love him that much? Not that he was complaining, but, wow. They wanted to learn because of and for him.

Clint fucking loved his kids.

He should bake them cookies. Or maybe ask Natasha to bake cookies for them.

"Mr. Barton?" His head snapped up, eyes landing on Kate walking closer. "Are you alright?" she asked as she sat next to him gingerly.

He looked at her. "Can I hug you?" he asked in a small voice. She nodded, and Clint hugged her tightly. Kate returned it immediately, and they pulled away after a moment. "Were you behind this?"

"Well," she started. "Tons of other kids thought it was a good idea and we all love you, but technically, yes. I came up with the idea, and I started the petition to give to Dr. Coulson. I mean, you always listen to us and our problems, so we thought you might like this."

Clint stared at her, long and hard. After a few moments, his face softened. "You're amazing, Kate." She shrugged, smiling at him. "Remind me to never get on your bad side. I might die," he added as he stood.

Kate laughed, standing. "Let me help you put away the targets."

-:-

Bucky was standing in Clint's apartment when he got home. Something smelled good, but Bucky standing in his kitchen looked better. The brunet turned, smiling. "Hey, sweethear- mmh!"

In three strides, Clint's hands were on Bucky's waist and he was kissing him, slow and deep. Bucky let his eyes slip shut, hands finding his boyfriend's wide shoulders. Clint pressed closer, moving his hand to cup the side of the brunet's face.

After a few moments, they pulled away, Clint grinning like a maniac. Bucky gave him a confused smile, his hands falling to hold Clint's forearms. "What's up, babe?"

"I talked to the principal."

Bucky stared at him. "And?"

"I'm not losing my job."

"Well, I figured that." Bucky rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. "What else?"

"I'm gonna teach a brand new class, Buck. Sign language."

Clint watched his boyfriend's face brighten with a full-fledged grin. "Clint, that's amazing!"

"That's not even the best part." Clint grinned stupidly. "They started that class because the students want it; my kids want me to teach sign language. Because they love me. Said I'm there for them and they wanted to do something for me."

Bucky smiled at him fondly, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw, then his lips. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart." He ran a hand through Clint hair with a smile. "Nat has Lucky by the way. Let's eat dinner? I made lemon chicken with risotto and asparagus."

Clint let himself be lead, eating dinner and talking about Bucky's day. His left hand rested on Bucky's thigh the whole time, drawing circles with his thumb. After they finished, Clint set the dishes in the sink, and Bucky was already sitting on the couch, the sound of a TV show floating through the air when he plopped next to him. Clint's hand easily found Bucky's thigh again, squeezing it gently. Bucky leaned up and caught his boyfriend's lips, his hand finding Clint's bicep.

After another moment, Bucky swung around to sit on Clint's thighs, pulling away to plant a kiss on his jaw. "You really are amazing," he murmured, kissing just under his ear. "Really." He kissed his neck, down to the place where his neck met his shoulders. Clint leaned his head to the side to give Bucky space as he gently kissed his neck, sucking softly on his collar bone. The blonde's fingers firmly held his waist, letting out a soft groan when he felt lips brush his throat.

"Buck..." Clint murmured when he felt his boyfriend working a spot just behind his collar bone. The brunet didn't say anything, moving his hands to rest on Clint's abs, just beneath his shirt. One of the blonde's hands fell to Bucky's ass, pulling them even closer. Bucky let out a shaky breath against Clint's neck, feeling his half-hard dick pressing against Clint's. He kissed a trail back to his lips, kissing him slow for a moment, before tugging at the flannel.

"Can I take this off?" he murmured, meeting Clint's eyes.

The blonde nodded "Yeah..." he replied, breathlessly. "Please."

Bucky wasted no time, undoing buttons in record time. He hadn't realized, the last time he'd seen Clint shirtless, but he was covered in scars. Small ones, large ones, but a majority of them older. The brunet breathed shakily, running his fingers over them, before leaning up to kiss his boyfriend again. Clint's fingers found the hem of Bucky's shirt, tugging it questioningly. Bucky nodded, leaning back so Clint could peel it off. He leaned down to kiss the brunet's shoulder, before moving back up his neck and jaw.

"Babe, do you, ah," Bucky rasped, trying to keep his eyes open. "Hey, Clint, hey." He placed a hand on Clint's jaw, gently guiding him to look up. Once he met sea-blue eyes, he smiled. "Hey, before we do anything, how far do you wanna go?"

Clint blinked up at him. "I, ah, what about you?"

"I'd like you to fuck me if I'm being honest," he stated, a warm pink on his cheeks. "But I can just suck you off if you'd rather."

Clint swallowed, his cheeks warm and flushed too. "The- the first one, please."

Bucky nodded, kissing him softly. "We should probably go to your room then, no?"

Clint hummed. "Hold onto me."

"What?" Bucky asked, before letting out a shocked noise, scrambling to hold onto Clint as he stood, hands under his thighs. Clint smirked, kissing the top of Bucky's head. He then walked to his room, kicking the door closed behind him.

-:-

In a flurry, it was suddenly the end of August, and the school year was just around the corner. Bucky was helping Clint set up his new classroom, filled with purple bean bags and posters.

"Oh, God, it's been forever since I actually taught a class. Buck, what if I'm not good at teaching it? What if, what if they hate it? They hate me? I-"

"Clint," Bucky said calmly. The blonde peeked up at him from his desk chair. "You're going to be amazing, alright? The best. They'll love your class, and they'll keep loving you. Because you are wonderful."

Clint smiled shyly up at his boyfriend, who leaned down to kiss him gently.

"Stop loving up on your man, Barnes, and help us," Sam teased as he walked into the room with a box.

"Ignore him, Buck, these are the last three," Steve added, right behind him with two. "Where do you want these other boxes, Clint?"

"Just on the table right there is fine."

They did as he asked, and Steve put his hands in his hips to take a breath. He looked around, eyebrows furrowing. "Buck? Where's Peggy?"

As if on cue, Natasha and Peggy came in, chatting. They noticed the four men staring at them, and Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's so nice to have someone without a dick here."

"Nat," Sam hissed, "you're in a school."

"No kids here, Sam, but nice try, cutie."

Sam met her eyes, before flicking them away and fidgeting with the box. Steve and Bucky glanced at him and then each other with matching smirks.

Peggy glanced around the room, smiling. "Your room looks nice so far, Clint." She stepped over to Steve, who immediately wrapped an arm around her, kissing her hair.

The teacher smiled at her, eyes shining. "Thank you." He looked at his friends, beaming. "Thank all of you. It looks great in here. Drinks on me tonight." They all grinned back, bidding him farewell before leaving. Natasha closed the door behind her, and Clint ignored the look that totally said: "Don't fuck in the school."

Bucky sat on the table with the boxes, looking at Clint. Clint smiled back. "What's in those last few boxes, babe?" Bucky opened them, pulling out some more posters from one, and other small decorations and books from another. He hesitated at the last; Clint noticed, looking at him concerned as he got up and stood in front of the brunet. "Bucky?"

"I, ah... I got you a little gift," he said sheepishly as he set the box in Clint's hands.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to, okay?" he smiled from behind the few pieces of hair falling in his face. "Now, open it."

Clint did just that, picking open the packaging tape. When he moved the cardboard, he gasped lightly. Carefully, he picked up the silver nameplate, inspecting the engraved purple fingerspelling of Barton. He met Bucky's eyes, the brunet looking at him nervously. Clint set the nameplate on the table next to him, stepped between Bucky's knees, and kissed him slowly, softly. Bucky kissed back, feeling the smile on Clint's lips. When he pulled back, Clint was grinning stupidly at him. "I love it," he murmured.

Bucky nodded, swallowing. "I, ah, I have one more thing for you, Clint. Can you step back a second?"

Clint did so, watching carefully. Bucky took a deep breath and began to sign. "My name is B-u-c-k-y." He glanced up at his wide-eyed boyfriend, but continued. "Your name is C-l-i-n-t." He added the sign for sweetheart, before taking one more deep breath. He pointed at himself, made loose fists while crossing his wrists over his heart, and then pointed at Clint.

The blonde stared at him, dumbfounded. He didn't move, didn't say anything, just stared at Bucky for God knows how long. Bucky stared back, his heart pounding against his chest. Was it too early? Did Clint not feel the same? Was Bucky wrong?

And then, slowly, Clint was bringing his hands up, returning the gesture while saying the words as well. "I love you." A small smile found his lips as he took a stride forward back to Bucky. He ducked his head to kiss him again, pulling back to whisper "I love you," against his lips.

Bucky smiled, pulling Clint back in.


End file.
